Life Eludes Him

by Jennifer Suits

  “Please do,” I nodded. “We have much more to talk about this time.” I led him to my couch, sat and waited for him to begin. The book rested on my lap with my left hand holding it. My right hand went into my pocket where my recorder was and hit the play button.

  “Chesley wrote all of that long ago to tell his story,” he said. Looking at the book, he added, “I found it and gave it to my friend, Wyatt. His father was a friend of Ned Osland and he would go over there a lot, outside of working for them.” He took in a deep breath and continued, “I know this is strange for you and quite a bit deep when you get yourself really involved, but I have to tell you that the story within those covers is real and fully detailed. One of those two boys that were taken away from Chesley at the time of the incident was my grandfather. I don’t know what happened to his brother, but I think an illness prematurely took his life. These things aren’t really mentioned in that book.”

  Inquisitive, I couldn’t help but ask, “You speak of an incident. What do you mean by that?”

  “His untimely death,” Steven frowned. “My great-grandfather was a good man, according to the family. He put the great in great-grandfather. There were so many good memories logged by his wife and people. He was also a baron. He moved from England to here, in order to start a new life away from the bureaucracy that a baron had to deal with and to save his marriage. They loved each other dearly and he would have done anything for his wife and family. The title brought an extensive amount of benefits, but it also had its drawbacks.” He pointed at the book, “All of that is in there.”

  “The portrait on the wall in the third floor bedroom, that woman looked incredibly close to me,” I stated, it sounding more like an inquiry.

  “Yes, ma’am, I believe that lady is now you.”

  “But it can’t be.” His words sank to the pit of my stomach. “Clearly you’re mistaken.”

  “No, ma’am. I believe that is you in that portrait. Has anyone in town given you an odd look-over?”

  Recalling, I nodded. “A couple of people have. Mostly people that have been to that place or—”I really don’t like where this conversation is taking me. I promised to help Chesley… I shifted in my seat, growing extremely uncomfortable. I supposed he could tell. I hurriedly readjusted and held still.

  “I think the same,” he smiled warmly. “I think you are the reincarnation of his baroness.”

  I had to change the subject. “Why have you come here? According to the local paper, you died before you paid me the previous visit.”

  “I am here, no longer to warn you, but to help you now that you know more than most.” His expression never faltered. He was the one that seemed to know more than most.

  “I do appreciate your visit,” I relented. I was eager to dive right into the book. I had so many questions to ask, but all in due time. During the rest of his stay, we spoke about the afterlife and his experiences thus far. He explained that he was leaving to a better place, now that he understood that I was not going to relent. I bid him farewell and wished him all the luck of the hereafter.

  Chapter Six

  Opening the book on Chesley’s life, I couldn’t believe its contents. The handbook started with the events leading up to his death. His love for his family was deep, I could tell. His wife had given birth to their second child. Their first two, boys, were eight and nine and a half when the third pregnancy occurred. The baroness had been struggling through an unusually long labor. After sixteen hours, the midwife came out of her room to announce that the girl-child and mother had suffered extensive damage during labor—and had died.

  Two days later, an angry mob of townspeople announced that they planned to execute Chesley Davis Renshaw III because they believed he had poisoned his wife’s delivery. They carried out their plans, not for the poisoning charge they imposed on him, but for the hope that they would obtain his land. If he were declared guilty, the land would become the property of the town by default and at best he would be shipped off to a dungeon to serve his term of life in prison.

  Since he denied the accusations, when he was found guilty he was hanged on his own property. His children had been sent away two days prior, so they were safe, but the outcome for his family was grave. His children were reduced to poverty, while the town prospered with his property.

  They sold it first to the town mayor and once the mayor died of cardiac arrest after a short time in the house, it was auctioned to the highest bidder. As an outcome, the townspeople blamed the haunting for the mayor’s death. The cursed manor would sit vacant for some time.

  This explained why the townspeople, even today and yesterday, had difficulty talking about the manor. My stomach churned. What I couldn’t understand was the fact that even today they held what their ancestors did on their own consciences. Were they still feeling guilt for actions the town did to an innocent family? That thought scared me. Then where was the remorse, the justice?

  Thinking over the time I’d spent talking with the locals, I realized that I wasn’t going to hear much more. I understood there were a few people that probably did feel remorse for what had happened, Mr. Verner being one of them, but hoping for any restitution would be useless. A somber feeling swept over me and I cried myself to sleep.

  With a slow start in the morning, I showered to awaken and let the water rain steadily over my face. Once refreshed, I decided it was time to return to the manor. The drive made my senses come alive with anticipation of seeing Chesley once more.

  Once upstairs and in his dark living quarters, I waited by the fireplace. The cold air penetrated me to the bone. In my solitude I longed for his presence, wished for his touch, his life, his warmth. As if on cue, he entered the room.

  The fire roared to life, raising goose bumps over my chilled body. I spun around to greet him. Dressed as he was before, he made his way over to me and smiled. I was not sure what came over me, but I moved to him, embraced him in a hug and held him to me for some time.

  “What was that for?” he chuckled, leading me by the hand over to the chair. Once I was comfortable, he knelt beside me and looked into my eyes.

  “I studied you and your history,” I said. To be quite honest, I’m burdened with sorrow.” I held back the tears, but the crack in my voice revealed my feelings.

  “It is the past,” he coolly replied. Stroking my hair gently, he sighed. “It is not something I can, nor you, should dwell upon.”

  The whispered words I answered never came from clear thoughts formulated, they came from my heart. “I care about you and…” I studied his face for any change of expression. “I think it’s more than caring, too. You see, when I come here, I feel like I belong. I don’t feel like an outsider. To me, this is home. I want it to be home. I miss you when I am not here. I’m saddened by your life and love the life you bring here, but…I don’t know. I’m confused, yet I understand completely.” A single tear escaped my eye and ran a wet trail down my cheek.

  He wiped it carefully from my face and smiled. “You remind me of my beloved wife. If I believed in reincarnation, I would say you were her, returned to me.”

  “Uh…” Not knowing what to say, my mouth closed. Realizing he was from an earlier time, when chivalry played a part in society, I leaned into his arms and kissed him tenderly.

  He reciprocated and gently pulled my head closer to his.

  The touch of his hand sent waves of heat through my body. My breathing quickened, almost panting, as my desires heightened in his embrace.

  He stood, pulled me to him and seized me up into his arms and led me to the bedchamber across the hall. Opening the door with a slight kick, he entered the room and gently placed me upon the bed. This room was just as extravagant as the living area; rich burgundy linens spread across the bed, the bedposts were thick and made of mahogany, the vanity was hand-carved with flowers and ivy vines and cherubim. The room glowed with candlelight. The scent of sweet flowers permeated the air and wafted into my nostrils, makin
g my mind whirl.

  I pulled him to me and trailed kisses over his face, across his cheek and down his neck. My cheeks heated.

  His hand drifted over my waist, up to my breast and cupped it there, massaging my chest until he heard a moan escape me.

  His gentle kiss warmed my soul, filled my heart with rapture and my body with carnal desire. I wanted him and right then. I breathed in his ear, “Please, make love to me.”

  And oh, he did!

  We made love and fell asleep in each other’s arms, entangled in a heap of entwined flesh, all of it solid as life. I believed a smile rested on his face most of the evening.

  Chapter Seven

  My decision was made.

  In the morning, I awoke with him by my side—still in solid flesh. He had brought red roses to the room and placed them on the sheet over my belly. I noticed them immediately and expressed my gratitude. After holding each other for some time, we thought it best to get started on the manor right away. Once dressed, I kissed him farewell and departed. My task was to place a petition to stop all demolition plans of the residence and draw up details for a legal battle.

  As expected, months passed. But while waiting for the results, I spent my time with Chesley and worked on renovating the house. Landscapers beautified the grounds, returning it to its original condition. I had professionals restore the paintings, carpenters replaced soft spots in the flooring and cleaners made sure everything was in order. As Chesley had it, so it was again. I snapped pictures and shipped them off to the lawyers, adding to my plea for reconsideration.

  The bittersweet day finally arrived. The news came in the form of a telephone call with my boss on the other end.

  “I heard it through the grapevine that you won the petition and have been granted ownership of a historical site,” his voice expressed barely concealed excitement. “I honestly didn’t think you would get it, but I did what I could on my part.”

  “I owe you, big time!” I nearly burst into tears. Relief flooded me, relief for Chesley, but more a long overdue justification for me. “You’ve been so good to me!”

  “No, Claire.” He chuckled. “I think you’ve been rather good to me actually.”

  “I’ll still work for you as long as I can, if you so choose,” I proffered. It was the least I could do for a man that helped me beat the system.

  “As long as you wish.” His voice reflected an unseen smile.

  Though I was slightly prepared for it, the official news hit me like a ton of bricks. When I told Chesley the good news, he took me into his arms, swirled me around like a child playing at a schoolyard and hugged me tight. I had arranged to move in months ago, but I had a few things to wrap up in my life back home. No, I decided, having thought about it, this place, here with Chesley, is my home. Here was where I would gladly stay, too.

  The government granted us funds to turn the manor into a museum when my death approached. After seeing the achievements that we made, the townspeople accepted my efforts of saving the residence, perhaps in recompense for what their ancestors had done, or possibly thanks to Mr. Verner’s efforts in keeping its restoration up to requirements.

  Whatever the case may have been, I lived a long, happy life with him. And nearing my eighties, but looking not a day over thirty years old, I felt my life reach its end.

  Chesley’s warm gaze drifted into the depths of my soul and took away all my physical pains of aging. He gently swept me into his arms and asked if I wished to stay there with him or go on to a greater world.

  With my last living breath, I whispered, “With you, my world is great.” Together, we coexisted, the living and the undying, in the manor, until we decided it was time to ascend. Together, we happily went to the great beyond, hand in hand, as any love-stricken couple would.

  About the Author

  Writing is one hobby of many that, author, Jen Suits loves to do in her spare time. She paints award-winning fantasy and science fiction miniatures, Egyptian hieroglyphs, attends charity fund-raisers, gives to those less fortunate when able, and dreams big! Jen shares her time with her close family and friends, who she often finds to be wonderful inspiration of her romantic and playful sides. Also in her spare time, she enjoys role-playing games and explores online gaming.